A/N
S.A.- Thank you for your review! I'm glad you feel that way.
Jennabot- Never fear, the story is being continued. And I don't really like Emison either ; )
Guest/s- I'm glad you liked the story!
Thank you for all the story alerts/favorites and for your reviews, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter.
Chapter Eleven- I Would For You
You're sixteen the first time you realize just how beautiful your best friend is.
It's past midnight on what is soon to be the hottest day of the year, and you're laying flat on your back, next to her, on the grass in her backyard. All you can hear is the sound of her breathing and the low hum on the crickets in the bushes a few feet away.
You don't think anyone has ever felt this peaceful before.
"It's beautiful, huh?" Spencer murmurs, staring up at the unusually clear sky, "The moon looks so close I almost feel like I could reach up and touch it."
You laugh, but say nothing, and she continues.
"I mean, I know I can't because it's over 380, 000 kilometers away, but still…"
You can't help but smile as she speaks, hanging on to every word she says.
"Can we swim tomorrow, Spence?" You ask, glancing over at the Hastings' pool.
"No," Spencer grumbled, "You'll kick my ass."
You laugh.
"We could play hockey before hand, to boost your ego."
She smirks, and you swear you can actually see the cogs whirring in her brain as she thinks.
"Well…" Spencer starts, sitting up slowly, a devilish look in her eyes, "technically, it already is tomorrow."
You raise an eyebrow in her direction. Spencer was one of the most intelligent people you'd ever met, and sometimes she conveyed this by saying things that didn't entirely make sense.
"And?" You ask her, flopping back down on the grass, "I'm not doing hockey drills with you in the dark."
"We could swim now."
You start to laugh, only stopping when you realize just how serious she is.
"Spencer-" You start, rolling your eyes, "It' s past midnight."
She shrugs her shoulders.
"You wanted to use my pool today. I'm just trying to start the day off early."
You sit up straight now, and you cannot believe that you're actually considering her suggestion.
"I don't have my suit." You protest, "And I'm too tall to borrow one from you."
You know that isn't exactly true. Only a month ago, you had gone with Spencer to the doctor when you needed physicals for swimming and hockey, and she was now only an inch shorter than you and growing fast.
She shrugs.
"We can't get up to my room without waking my parents anyway," She concedes, ignoring your comment about her height.
You nod.
"Tomorrow, then?" You ask, closing your eyes and exhaling deeply.
She stands up and wanders over to the edge of the pool.
"I didn't say that, did I?" She says coyly, flicking on the pool heater and the in-pool lights.
You sigh deeply, wishing you'd never mentioned it and knowing all too well that when Spencer got an idea into her head there was very little anyone could do to stop her.
"Are you seriously suggesting we swim in our underwear?" You ask incredulously, sitting up on the lawn and shaking your head in her direction, a shy smile still adorning your lips.
"Nope." She grins, opening the door to the pool house and pulling out two large towels.
You cock your head to the side in confusion for a few seconds before it dawns on you what Spencer's plan is.
Skinny dipping.
You groan, a deep pink blush beginning to spread across your cheeks.
You look up from the grass just in time to see Spencer slipping off her pajama shorts and sliding into the water.
The blush has now spread down your neck and across your chest.
"Come on!" She calls from the water, swimming backwards, her eyes never leaving your face, "The water feels amazing."
At sixteen, you had known Spencer for far too long to think that she would drop it now, so you stand up, somewhat reluctantly, and make your way over to the edge of the pool, where you sit and dip your feet in.
"You're right. The water is nice." You admit, still far too shy to strip and jump in the pool.
"I'm always right." She grins.
You roll your eyes.
"Now come in, I'll turn around while you get in, if you want."
You shrug your shoulders and she takes that as a yes and turns around politely, as you pull off your tank top and shorts and fold them neatly by the edge of the pool.
"Okay." You tell her, "You can turn around now."
She grins and splashes at you before swimming off to the other end of the pool.
You couldn't fault Spencer, you really couldn't. It had been almost a year since you told her how you felt about Alison, and she had barely batted an eyelid since. She asked you, on occasion, if there was anyone who you were interested in at all, but these questions were always passing remarks and you never felt under any pressure to divulge any details.
It was almost like she'd known since long before you told her, and you wouldn't have been surprised if she had.
You take a deep breath and chase after her.
She squeals when she sees you dive under the water and begins to doggy paddle along the edge of the pool, in a half-hearted attempt to get away from you. The two of you chase back and forth for a while, completing at least five circuits of the pool, before you grab her around the middle.
"Gotcha." You laugh.
She turns around in your grasp, with less than an inch between your bodies, and places her hands on your forearms. And that's when you realize that Spencer Hastings might just be the most beautiful creature on the planet.
The amber flecks in her eyes are dancing as she smiles, like embers in an open fire; her silky, dark hair offsetting her shimmering white skin. Her smile is stretched across her face, and you marvel at how beautiful her teeth look against her deep pink lips.
She crinkles her nose and you are pretty certain that the butterflies in your stomach are about to burst out of you and scatter like confetti across the surface of the pool.
And you're perfectly okay with that.
Honestly, you didn't think you'd care if you died right there in her arms.
"Emily?" She asks quietly, resting her nose against yours, "Em?"
"Huh?" You ask, shaking your head quickly, trying to snap yourself out of the daze that you'd so quickly fallen into.
"Nothing, you just zoned out on me a little. Are you getting cold?"
You shake your head.
"Really?" She asks, dropping her stare to just under the water, "because it kind of looks like you are, if you know what I mean."
She giggles as you figure out exactly what she means, and a deep shade of scarlet sets in across your face, neck and chest.
And suddenly you're hyper-aware of the fact that you're standing in Spencer's arms. Holding her. Completely naked.
"Maybe we should get out." You acquiesce, trying your best to pretend that you weren't going to be dreaming about this for the next month.
Spencer says nothing, but nods and makes her way over to the ladder. You turn around, like she did for you, and she scoffs.
"Emily, why are you being so weird about all of this?" She asks, drying herself off on the side of the pool, "You've literally been my best friend since we were five. We've shared baths before, Em. You have literally seen me naked a thousand times."
"A lot's changed since we were five Spence," You laugh awkwardly, "Anatomically, I mean."
She smirks.
You roll your eyes, climbing out of the water and walking straight into the towel she's holding up for you. There are tears pricking your eyes and she notices, sitting down on the edge of the pool and motioning for you to sit next to her. You do, and she wraps her arm around your shoulders.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks, dropping a kiss on the top of your wet hair.
You shrug.
"I'm...I'm scared, Spence." You admit, a few stray tears escaping and rolling down your cheeks and onto her shoulder. "What if those feelings, what if they weren't just for Alison? What if, what if I'm...you know?"
"Gay?" She asks and you nod into her shoulder. She pulls back from you and for one horrible moment you're terrified that she's disgusted by you.
"Emily, listen to me." She says, speaking slowly and clearly, her eyes penetrating deep into your face. "It does not matter if you are gay. Or straight. Or bisexual. Or any other orientation. What matters is the fact that you are loyal, and smart, and so very, very kind. Anyone that matters will see that."
You shake your head.
"What about my mom?" You ask, terrified.
She rolls her eyes.
"Who cares what your mom thinks? You can move in with me."
You smile widely and she moves her hands to wipe your cheeks.
"Seriously, Em. If anyone doesn't love you for who you are, they don't deserve to have you in their lives." You smile weakly and let her wrap you in her arms again.
"But what am I supposed to do, Spencer? What about getting married? Having kids? How am I ever going to meet another person like me who wants to do all of those things?"
You can't believe, even as you're speaking, how easy it is to talk to Spencer about these feelings.
"I kind of hope you don't Em." She whispers, and you look up at her, confused. "I kind of always hoped you'd marry me."
"Where are we going?" Spencer asked, as Emily pulled away from her and began reversing the car out of the parking lot, a look of sheer ire in her eyes.
"Anywhere but here, Spence." Emily murmured, tears glistening in her eyes. "I swear to God, Spencer, I will never, ever let you go back there. I had no idea how bad things were."
Spencer was beginning to panic. Emily had never been the best person at controlling her emotions; she had a protective streak a mile long when it came to the people she loved and- though this was one of her best attributes- it often clouded her logic.
"Emily, slow down." Spencer cautioned, her eyes growing big as she took in Emily's ever-climbing speedometer, the other girls' hands were shaking on the steering wheel and her knuckles were turning white.
"Emily Fields, pull over, now." Spencer ordered, grabbing hold of the steering wheel and helping to direct the car off of the main road. Slowly, Emily turned off the engine and slumped back in her seat.
"Deep breath, Em." Spencer coached, placing a hand on Emily's shoulder. "It's okay."
Emily shook her head.
"It's not okay, Spencer!" She shrieked, banging one of her hands against the steering wheel, tears flowing down her face. "How is this okay, Spencer? That...that bastard has been hurting you, and I didn't stop him, Spencer! I knew and I didn't help you. I could've...I could've called the police or, or something. Anything. But I just let him keep hurting you."
Spencer bit her lip, unsure of what to do as she watched Emily start to sob through her words. Had she thought the other girl would blame herself, she never would have told her.
"Em?" She coaxed, shyly, "Em?"
Emily brought her head up to look at her and Spencer felt the tension ease a little bit.
"Emily, I need you to listen to me, okay? There is nothing more you can do. You know what helps me, Em? You know what I think about when he...when he does those things? You. Mornings with you in the park. Breakfast with you. Holding your hand. Emily, you are the only thing that gets me through, okay? I need you to believe that."
Emily started to cry harder and Spencer shuffled forwards across the seat, engulfing her in the best hug she could, given the restrictions of the car. Once Emily's cries had quietened to the occasional sniff, Spencer moved back to her side of the car and let out a sigh of relief.
Neither girl said anything the whole ride back to Emily's building, and the silence continued as they rode the elevator up to the sixth floor of the building (something Emily rarely ever did, since she much preferred to take the twelve flights of stairs rather than stand in the company of neighbors she had never met for any amount of time).
As Emily led her into the apartment, Spencer couldn't help but feel sickeningly nervous. The weight of what she was doing was finally beginning to set in.
She was, effectively, running away from home. Away from the man who had told her that he was the only person that she should ever trust (which she had, for the most part, believed), the man who had convinced her to leave her friends, family and possessions behind and not return home after their honeymoon. The man who had spent the past five years losing jobs and making enemies, forcing them to move to a new city at least twice a year, tearing her away from any sense of normality she was beginning to know.
The man who had hurt her.
It had started out as a single slap to the face one evening, after she'd asked him when they were going home to visit their families (it'd been six months since they moved to Philadelphia and Spencer was missing home). He'd been drunk, and she'd overlooked it. Over the course of the year, she realized that he didn't need to be drunk to hit her. She earned slaps for the smallest of transgressions- for wearing too much make-up ('I won't have people thinking that my wife's a whore.'), or for speaking to his friends.
Slaps turned into punches, which turned into cigarette burns and belt marks.
Sex had changed from pleasure to a chore, from a chore to rape.
She had run away from the man who had repeatedly beat her and raped her.
The man who had friends in all kinds of places, who would surely find out where she had gone.
"Emily?" Spencer whispered, turning a sickening shade of white. "Where's your bathroom?"
Emily's brow creased in concern as she pointed through the kitchen and to the left.
Spencer nodded and ran from the room, her hand clutched over her mouth, barely making it to the bathroom in time before throwing up the contents of her stomach.
Emily heard the door slam and dropped the mail she'd been holding back on the floor, hurriedly making her way to the bathroom, where she found Spencer bent double over the toilet, retching.
"Hey," She soothed, kneeling down beside Spencer and rubbing her lower back in a circular motion, "Hey, it's okay."
Spencer gagged violently, and began to puke again.
Emily sighed, thankful of her strong stomach, and pulled a hair tie off of her wrist and started using her fingers to comb Spencer's hair back into a ponytail.
"It's alright, Spence," She crooned, slipping her hand underneath the material of Spencer's top in an attempt to feel if she had a fever. "It's okay."
After a few minutes of vomiting, Spencer slumped forward, resting her forehead against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. Emily awkwardly twisted around and grabbed a handful of tissues, using them to wipe the traces of vomit from around Spencer's mouth and the sweat from her forehead.
"Come here," Emily instructed gently, supporting Spencer's back as she eased her over a few feet to the left and helped her to lean against the wall. Emily then busied herself flushing the toilet and wiping the seat over, before rummaging in the cupboard under the sink.
"Here you go," She said triumphantly, standing up and making her way back over to Spencer and handing her a brand new toothbrush "There's mouthwash and toothpaste by the sink, I'm going to go and grab you some water- you can't drink the stuff from the tap in here."
Emily grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and made her way back into the bathroom. She stood in the doorway, unable not to smile as she watched Spencer meticulously brush her teeth in the same way she had always done: fifteen seconds on each set of molars, and thirty seconds on her front teeth- first top, then bottom.
She handed Spencer the water and she took it gratefully, drinking almost half of it in one go.
"Are you feeling better enough to take a shower?" Emily asked, "I know how much you hate being sick."
Spencer smiled nervously.
"I think so."
Emily smiled back at her and proceeded to demonstrate how the various settings on the shower worked.
"Shampoo, conditioner and soap are all in the basket on the inside wall of the shower," She said, pointing to the basket, "Use whatever you like. I'll get you some towels, so leave the door unlocked and I'll put them just inside."
Spencer smiled shyly and nodded, waiting until Emily had closed the door behind her to begin undressing. She gingerly slipped off her leggings and top, folding them neatly into a pile with her socks and underwear and wrapping them up inside her cardigan, before opening the glass door and stepping into the stream of warm water that Emily had left running for her.
After a few minutes the warm water starting working on her muscles, and Spencer began to relax a little bit. She quickly washed her hair and lathered her body in Emily's grapefruit body wash, before rinsing off and stepping out of the shower- not wanting to waste the hot water. Emily had been so good to her, Spencer didn't want her to think that she was taking advantage.
She found the towels Emily had laid out for her and patted herself dry, before pulling on the loose fitting pajama pants and long sleeved top that Emily had left in the place of her dirty clothes.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Emily sat on the couch wearing pajamas with her hair tied back, flicking through a case of DVD's.
"I was thinking maybe Disney?" Emily chuckled, hearing Spencer come into the room and gesturing for her to come and sit next to her, "What do you think?"
Spencer shrugged. She didn't want to seem rude, but she didn't feel it was her place to choose, what with Emily having let her stay and fed her already.
"The Princess Diaries!" Emily exclaimed as she moved further through the wallet, "We watched this movie so many times when we were kids."
"Do you have the sequel?" Spencer asked, slightly amused by Emily's excitement. Emily nodded and pulled out two discs, slotting one of them into the player and turning the lights down.
"How's your stomach?" She asked gently, opening the linen closet and pulling out a blanket.
"Much better, thank you." Spencer replied, moving a hand to her stomach. She thought it would be better for both of them if Emily continued to believe that she was a touch under the weather, rather than disclosing that she was sick at the idea of her husband finding her...and finding Emily.
"Better enough for hot chocolate?" Emily asked, grinning at the way Spencer's eyes lit up as she nodded fervently.
It took Spencer a moment to remember where she was when she opened her eyes on Emily's couch later that evening. Still slightly sleepy, she sat up and stretched, looking around the apartment for Emily and smiling when she spotted her in the kitchen.
"Hey sleepyhead," Emily grinned when Spencer wandered into the kitchen, "Nice nap? I think you missed most of the second movie and that ended over an hour ago."
"Sorry." Spencer said, meekly.
Emily rolled her eyes and moved towards the saucepan, which was sat on the other side of where Spencer was standing.
Spencer flinched away.
She thought you were going to hit her.
Emily gasped as she realized what had just happened, and she quickly abandoned her cooking and moved carefully to stand next to Spencer, who was now bright red and horribly embarrassed. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again almost immediately, deciding- for Spencer's sake- to move past it.
"Water, soda or juice?" Emily offered, opening the fridge and surveying its contents.
"Water's fine." Spencer mumbled, unable to shake off the lingering embarrassment that filled her head. She had flinched away, afraid, from Emily. The girl who had been so good to her; so patient and understanding.
God, she was so stupid.
Emily nodded, pouring a tall glass of iced water and setting it down on the table, motioning for Spencer to sit down. Spencer did as Emily suggested.
"Is there anything you don't like now, Spence?"
Spencer shook her head. She ate whatever Toby decided he wanted. She'd become a vegetarian in college, but that had long since been abandoned.
"Meat?"
Spencer shrugged. She wasn't trying to be unhelpful, she just honestly didn't know what she did and didn't like anymore.
"Okay. How about spinach, onion and parmesan pasta?" Emily suggested, knowing that the dish was something that Spencer genuinely enjoyed (or, at least, had).
Spencer nodded.
"Great."
Spencer didn't speak at all during dinner, but Emily was pleased to see that she ate everything on her plate (though she declined a second helping), even though she couldn't help noticing that she'd eaten less than half the amount she would have done during college.
Spencer yawned.
"Tired?" Emily chuckled, clearing away their plates and putting them in a bowl of soapy water, that she was intent on leaving until the morning.
Spencer nodded.
"A little, I guess."
"Me too," Emily agreed. It'd been a long and emotionally taxing day and she, unlike Spencer, hadn't slept through most of the afternoon. "Okay, so, I'll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed?"
Spencer shook her head obstinately.
"Absolutely not. I'll sleep on the couch, you've already done enough for me over the past few weeks, besides, I know how your shoulder can get."
Emily was about to protest, but Spencer raised her eyebrows in a don't-argue-with-me manner. Emily had become well accustomed to that look over the years and sighed in resignation, heading over to the linen closet and fetching out multiple blankets, a comforter and several pillows.
"Go and brush your teeth, I'll make up the couch."
Spencer did as she was told, and when she returned Emily had pulled out the couch and was in the process of lining it with blankets and pillows.
"My mom bought me this," Emily explained, gesturing at the pull-out couch, "It's for when I want to have, en quote, 'lady guests' over for the night."
Spencer burst out laughing. Many things had changed over the years, but Pam Fields, apparently, had not.
"Trust me, this is the tip of the iceberg. She wanted to buy me a single bed."
Spencer giggled harder, sitting down on the makeshift bed in the space that Emily had gestured to.
"Lie down." Emily instructed, lifting up the comforter and one of the blankets.
"Em, I don't need you to tuck me in. I'm almost twenty seven years old."
Emily raised her eyebrows.
"Your birthday is April 11th. You're twenty-six and a half at most."
Spencer scowled.
"I still don't need tucking into bed."
Emily shrugged, gently pushing Spencer down by the shoulders and pulling the comforter up to her chin, adding another blanket on top for good measure.
"I know." She whispered, kissing Spencer's forehead softly. "Goodnight, Spence."
"Night Em."
